“We’re all fine,” Taylor said bluntly. “And you don’t want to waste time talking to us when you’re on a date.”
“I’m not planning to waste time. Just saying hello.” He sounded absolutely natural. Friendly but not overly so. He was greeting them the way anyone would if he’d run across acquaintances in a restaurant like this. “I hope you all enjoy the rest of your evening.”
That was clearly a concluding statement. He wasn’t going to introduce them to his date, and he wasn’t going to introduce her to them.
Which was fine. It wasn’t rude. And it certainly wasn’t personal.
But Amanda couldn’t help but notice that he still hadn’t met her eyes. He was looking mostly at Taylor, occasionally shifting his eyes over to Serena.
But not her.
Maybe he thought she was silly and immature after her behavior at the wedding.
Maybe it made him uncomfortable.
Maybe he was embarrassed for her.
Her cheeks warmed, but since he wasn’t looking, he wouldn’t notice. Hopefully Taylor and Serena wouldn’t either.
“We will have a good evening. Have one yourself.” That was Taylor, ending the conversation in her normal manner before turning back to her friends.
Robert nodded and started to leave, his eyes flicking over to Amanda just before he did.
Their gazes met for just a moment, but it left her weirdly breathless. Not that it was full of emotion or anything. It was just...
Significant.
That was how it felt.
But she reminded herself that it wasn’t significant. It was just slightly awkward. But now the first interaction after the wedding was over, so they could go back to being what they’d always been before.
Acquaintances.
Close enough to chat and banter a little but not close enough for anything else.
Now that that was settled, maybe she could finally get him out of her mind.
ROBERT WAS WISHING he hadn’t come to this wedding.
He’d been invited like the rest of his family, but it was probably just out of general civility. He wasn’t really friends with either the bride or the groom. They were closer to the age of Taylor and her friends. He should have just made his excuses and stayed home.
But he hadn’t. He was here. At another wedding where he couldn’t take his eyes off Amanda.
He really needed to work on that.
He wasn’t even sure why he’d accepted the invitation. It wasn’t because Amanda was the cousin of the bride and one of the bridesmaids, circumstances that guaranteed her attendance. It definitely wouldn’t have been for that reason.
Some other masochist impulse must have prompted his acceptance. But now he was here and couldn’t do anything about it but try not to stare at Amanda too much.
She was gorgeous this evening in a sleek blue dress—much more flattering and elegant than the poufy thing she’d been wearing at her sister’s wedding. Her hair was pulled up in some sort of smooth twist that caused her neck and shoulders to look long and graceful and touchable.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d watched Amanda through most of the ceremony and during the early parts of the reception. She gave a short, funny, and touching toast, and she was laughing a lot as they went through the traditional reception routines.
No dancing at this reception, so that was one good thing. He didn’t have to watch some other guy with his hands all over her.
She’d nodded and given him a polite smile early in the reception when she’d first noticed his presence, but she hadn’t looked over at him since. It probably wasn’t intentional. She more likely wasn’t thinking about him.
Why should she be?
He was nothing more than a guy she’d hung out with one tipsy evening. They hadn’t shared anything meaningful. He was the one who was evidently so needy that he was still brooding about her so many weeks later.
He wasn’t like this.
He’d never been like this.
He was going to pull himself back together. Soon.
He told himself that as he ate a few of the hors d’oeuvres and drank a glass of whisky. (He was sticking to only one this time.) And he told himself the same thing again while he chatted with his brother and then Taylor. And he told himself once more as he waited for them to cut the cake, which was always his sign that it would be acceptable to leave without appearing rude.
When the cake was cut and the guests started to scatter again, he stood up.
This wedding was over. He was getting out of there. There was absolutely no reason to stay any longer.
Amanda wasn’t going to talk to him.
He’d turned toward the nearest exit when he noticed something from the corner of his eye. Instead of walking—which was what he should have done—he glanced over to see what had caught his attention.
What else? Amanda. She’d slipped away from the group of bridesmaids and groomsmen and was going through the french doors that led to the garden outside.
Instead of being smart and cynical and sensible—his normal self—and leaving as he’d intended, he followed her.
He found her by herself, staring out at the mostly dark garden. There was some minimal landscape lighting but not enough to break most of the shadows.
Amanda wasn’t near tears the way she’d been when he’d found her outside at the previous wedding. She looked subdued but calm. And a little chilly. She had her arms crossed over her chest.
“You should have worn a jacket,” he said, stepping forward so he was beside her. “It’s kind of cool out here this evening.”
He’d surprised her. She jerked and her eyes widened. But she recovered quickly and gave him a mild eye roll. “If I’d wanted a jacket, I’d have worn one.”
Her dress was sleeveless with only wide straps of satin covering her shoulders. The wind blew just then, ruffling the loose strands of hair around her face and neck. She shivered visibly despite her clear attempt to keep from doing so.
Robert took off his suit jacket and draped it around her shoulders.
She sneered at him. “I didn’t ask for this.”
“I know that. I offered it anyway. Are you really so stubborn as to throw it back in my face?”
“Maybe. But not tonight. I’m too tired tonight to be stubborn.” She pulled the jacket closer. “It smells like you.”
He arched his eyebrows. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
“Sadly, it’s a good thing,” she admitted in a mournful tone.
He chuckled. He couldn’t help it. “Why is it sad?”
“Because it would be easier to be annoyed with your presumption and arrogance if you didn’t smell so scrumptious.”
“Ah.” The wave of gratified pleasure that washed over him at her words was impossible to ignore. “I’m sure you can manage a suitable degree of annoyance with me no matter how I smell.”
“Yes. But I can’t take all the credit. You make it easy.”
He laughed again, which was strange because he didn’t usually laugh.
Before he could think of a clever response, Amanda said, “I’m not getting drunk this time.”
“Did I suggest you should?”
“No. I’m just saying. If you’re looking for a repeat performance, you’re going to be disappointed.”